All Posts Tagged With: "kindergarten"
McGuinty extends all day kindergarten to 900 more schools
Premiers says program will improve post-secondary participation rates
Ontario’s Liberal government announced Wednesday that all day kindergarten will be extended to an additional 900 schools by September 2012. The program started last fall with 600 schools, with 200 schools to take part in September 2011, for a total of 1,700 schools by 2012. “A strong start in school leads to a strong finish — so more students graduate and go on to college, university or an apprenticeship,” premier Dalton McGuinty said today.
Why I dread Tuesdays and Thursdays
My brother’s kindergarten teacher makes me nervous
Every Tuesday and Thursday I drop my younger brother off for his kindergarten class. My little brother loves school and usually talks non-stop the entire walk there and back. It’s his teacher.
Sam absolutely adores Mrs. Dybowski. And I completely understand why.
It’s part of the reason why every time I’m near his teacher, I lose the ability to speak in complete sentences. I avoid eye contact.
My five-year-old brother’s kindergarten teacher makes me a nervous wreck. And it’s not just because she’s extremely good looking, in an old lady kind of way.
The problem is, she’s one of those teachers with a Mother Teresa aura. You can instantly tell that she not only cares deeply about her students, she’s also really great at what she does. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I get to watch her for a couple of minutes as she organizes the kids into a straight line, gently telling them off when they push or shove.
“No, Harry, we don’t want to knock anyone over, right?” A disappointed look from Mrs. Dybowski is all it takes to make even the rowdiest five-year-old want to stand up straighter. Taller.
I admit it. I care what she thinks of me. As I stand there each morning, twice a week, for a couple of minutes, I try not to look nervous. Instead, I try to project this image of Kindly Big Brother Who Agrees that standing in a straight line is next to godliness.
-photo courtesy of Kevin Bedell
Hong Kong closes kindergartens, primary schools
At least 12 students have swine flu, government confirms
Hong Kong’s government on Thursday ordered all kindergartens and primary schools closed for two weeks after a dozen students tested positive for swine flu in the territory’s first local cluster of cases.
Territory leader Donald Tsang said 12 students at a local secondary school tested positive for the virus and that authorities have not been able to immediately determine how they contracted the sickness, indicating it likely has spread locally within the community.
“We are unable to identify the source of infection. This means they are indigenous cases,” Tsang told reporters after a three-hour urgent meeting with senior health and education officials.
The new infections bring the total number of cases in the city to 60.
At least one of the infected students, a 16-year-old girl who tested positive late Wednesday, had not travelled overseas recently, according to a government statement. All the patients are in isolation in hospitals.
Tsang said schools will be closed starting Friday to deter the spread of the virus, as authorities shift their preparedness level from “containment” to “mitigation.”
“If we don’t suspend classes, transmission among students and the community will spread quickly,” Tsang said.
Though the infections have been among secondary school students, Tsang said only kindergartens, primary schools and special education schools are being closed for now.
The closure came a day after Hong Kong confirmed the first domestic transmission of swine flu in a 55-year-old man. The man, who has no recent travel history, is believed to have caught the infection at a cocktail party from a 20 year-old man earlier confirmed with swine flu after returning from London.
The closure affects nearly 510,640 students at 1,626 schools, according to enrolment figures from the 2008-2009 academic year.
- The Associated Press
The cheesy triforce of summer vacation
Now that school’s out for the summer, my family is planning our annual trip to MarineLand. But with seven people involved, going to an amusement park for a day is no longer a vacation. It’s officially classified as a military operation. The problem is, I’m not a General. Or a Lieutenant. Or even an assistant [...]
Now that school’s out for the summer, my family is planning our annual trip to MarineLand. But with seven people involved, going to an amusement park for a day is no longer a vacation. It’s officially classified as a military operation.
The problem is, I’m not a General. Or a Lieutenant. Or even an assistant drummer boy. With my mom, dad, and 18-year-old sister ranking ahead of me, I barely have the authority of the drummer boy’s secretary. The one who isn’t allowed to answer the phone. Or sharpen pencils.
I’m four years older than David, seven years older than Michael, and 13 years older than Sam. Yes, my parents will be crispy 50-year-olds by the time Sam is in Kindergarten, but that’s a separate (and kinda repulsive) issue. The point is, my family obviously isn’t seniority-based.
I’m going to university in less than a month and a half. I’ve been breathing air four years longer than any one of my brothers. If my family were a law firm, I would have made partner by now. But my parents are denying my natural right to Bossy Older Brother privileges.
Sure, in terms of mini-van seating arrangements, I’m ranked ahead of David, Michael and Sam. But that still puts me in the back row, in the land of no arm rests, where cup-holders are spoken of only by the Village Elders, who remember the days of prosperity when it was possible to sip from a Coke and then, in a feat of luxury, tuck it into a convenient little pocket.
I’m squished into one bench seat with all the other lowly Privates, who aren’t old enough to comprehend the etiquette of eating Doritos. When any of my younger brothers eat orange-powdered cheesy ass, they suddenly start taking deep, open-mouthed breaths, deciding that the time is right to make up for every time they’ve held their breath underwater.
And then there’s the debris factor: when anyone under the age of 12 eats a Dorito, they end up with more powdered cheese on their fingers than what was originally on the chip. After an hour-long drive, thanks to three younger brothers exuding second-hand Dorito, I’ve aspirated a lethal amount of concentrated, processed cheddar.
It’s an unfortunate scientific fact: hot Dorito breath rises. In the midst of such poor air quality, my body will kick into survival mode, forcing me to take short, shallow breaths as a desperate defence mechanism. I don’t know which would be worse: suffocating in a dense cloud of Dorito powder, or being resuscitated by David’s Dorito-powdered breath.
Worst of all, my parents don’t understand the backwash situation that ravages the Land of No Arm Rests. They don’t allow private water bottle ownership. Water bottles are community owned. Even if I get first-lips on a bottle of water, within minutes, the entire supply will be tainted. After enduring the triple-gauntlet of my younger brothers- also known as the Triforce of Cheesy Sips- the contents of the water bottles are more solid than liquid.
There was only one thing to do: overthrow the Republic of the Back Seat of the Van and form a complete dictatorship.
